Home
by Kahlan Cypher
Summary: He turned to face her and sky blue locked onto slate grey and she gasped at the intensity of his gaze. He was supposed to be dead – she had received the call from their mutual friend Wilson four years ago telling her that Gregory House had died in a building fire. Rated for future chapters.


**Disclaimer:** I own none of these.

**A/N:** So I've watched until the end of Season 7 and an episode of Season 8. For this fic, it follows the plotline of the T series with a few changes. Thirteen never left, and Wilson did not get cancer.

* * *

Home

He had been bored out of his mind at home, looking for something constructive to occupy his brain with when Sam had walked in and asked if he wanted to go grocery shopping with her. He was about to reject her offer, because he didn't see the appeal in grocery shopping, but getting out of the four walls he had felt so confined in seemed like a great idea. When he accepted her offer, Sam had let him know that she was going to get Alyssa ready and they would be leaving in ten minutes. Ten minutes later Alyssa was securely strapped in her car seat and talking non-stop as her mother drove toward the grocery store.

If someone had told House four years ago, that he would actually be interested in hearing what a three year old had to say, he would have mocked and laughed at them, but now… now he knew better. He actually looked forward to picking the runt up from school, if only to hear the sound of her voice after a long morning, or the way she was always so excited to see him standing at the door to her classroom when her school day was done. At this moment though she was excitedly telling him about the birthday party they had at school and how even though all the girls liked the Tinkerbell cake, she was hoping it would have been a Minion from Despicable Me.

Granted, it had not been easy for him to deal with her in the early stages, but now he found that he simply couldn't live without the little girl. When he had made the decision to leave Princeton and everyone else after the fire incident, he hadn't known what exactly he was going to do or even where he was going to go. He knew Wilson would support him, no matter what decision he made, but House had decided that he needed to get away from all the people he loved and start afresh. He didn't want them to be miserable along with him anymore; it was the least he could do for them, allow them to be happy and most importantly, let them move on with their lives without feeling guilty about not including him along with their plans. Cuddy had her daughter and Wilson was obviously still looking for Mrs James Wilson the fourth and House had no intention of standing in their way.

The first week on his own didn't turn out to be such a disaster, though it went less spectacularly than he had expected it to. While he wasn't strapped for cash; allowing him to sleep in good hotels and eat in good restaurants and get around to wherever he wanted to go, he found what he missed the most was the company of people. The second week was worse because it was just him and his thoughts and while he was happy to be a loner, he found that being alone and being lonely were two completely different things and he realised he hated being lonely. That night he found a bar and while nursing his drink – he forgot how many he'd already consumed, he was contemplating whether he should go back to Princeton or not, when _she_ walked into the bar and hijacked his attention.

Long raven curls flowing three quarter way down her back, dark eyed and sporting black slacks, knee length three inched high heeled boots and a form fitting black cable knit sweater, she looked as though she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. House tracked her movement from the door to the bar, and as she made her way to the seat next to him. House watched as the bartender placed a bottle of still water and a bowl of pretzels on the counter for the woman. He raised an eyebrow at the bartender, having not seen any other bowls of pretzels on the counters or tables in the bar.

"Special order," the bartender informed him before walking away to serve the other customers at the counter.

"It's a bit pointless coming to a bar to drink water, don't you think?" House asked the woman.

She didn't answer him, merely smiled and continued nursing her drink.

"Aah, the strong, silent type. They don't make those anymore," House continued when the woman still didn't say anything.

He was about to say something else when House saw a man take a seat next to the woman. He saw the way her spine stiffened and a hand gripped the glass a little harder. House knew it was none of his business, and had he not been so lonely he wouldn't have intentionally overheard the conversation, but the truth was, he needed something to do and listening was the only thing he could do.

It was a short conversation, mostly one sided with an occasional one word answer from the woman, and when her companion left, she looked drained. House watched as she placed a few dollars on the counter and exited the bar, and then made the decision to follow her. He fell into step with her, and while he thought she would speed up her pace, she didn't, instead she slowed down so that he could keep up, even with his limp.

"Tough situation to be in," he said.

"Listening to other peoples' conversations are rude," she replied, no trace of anger or irritation in her tone.

"When does he leave?" House asked.

"Two days from today."

"Does he know he's going to be a dad?"

"No."

"Don't you think he should know? It might change his mind about going."

"It doesn't matter, he's already made the decision to go and nothing is going to change it. I don't want to be the one standing in the way of him getting what he wants."

And suddenly House knew exactly how the woman felt, knew exactly what was running through her mind. He had been there and experienced it and he didn't wish it upon anyone. A thought crossed his mind, but he wasn't sure how she would react to his suggestion, but he figured he had nothing to lose and so he voiced his thoughts.

"Well we're both in tough situations, why don't we be in it together?" he asked her.

Her response was a raised eyebrow in his direction.

"I need a place to crash for a few days and you shouldn't be alone for a bit. I think we could help each other out."

At the expression on her face he was quick to add, "Don't worry, you can trust me, there is nothing I would do to harm you. I don't need any attention drawn to me for no reason and if you don't believe me you can look me up under Gregory House MD, World Renowned Board Certified Diagnostician Specialising in infectious disease and nephrology. Also I'm supposed to be dead."

That was all it took and the rest was history. That was almost four years ago, four years that he wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

They finally arrived at the grocery store and House was trying to convince Sam to actually get chocolate mousse for dessert for himself and Alyssa and Sam was having none of it. They were still in the middle of debating it when House heard a little girl excitedly shouting his name. His felt his body tense up, and he fought the urge to look at the child, instead turning the other way and coming face to face with a pair of slate grey eyes. The sight of her standing so close to him was a definite shocker to his system and by the time he reacted to her presence Lisa Cuddy had grabbed her daughter and made her way out of the store and away from him.

"Something you want to tell me?" he heard Sam ask him and House simply shook his head.

"Not right now."

He still needed to process what had just happened.

* * *

All she was looking to do was get away from Jonathan for a few hours. He had been needy and moody for the last few days and Cuddy found she simply didn't have the patience to deal with a man-child as well as a six year old daughter at the same time. Emma had just walked into Cuddy's home when the older woman grabbed her purse and led Emma straight out the door, with Rachel in tow and driven to the grocery store almost half an hour away. Granted it wasn't convenient, but it did mean spending more time away from Jonathan. If this was the way he was behaving while they were engaged, Cuddy had no intention of finding out what would happen after they got married. She would be legally bound to look after a goddamn man child. She felt a headache creeping on but refused to succumb to it.

She was looking for some junk food in one of the isles when she heard his voice. Surely it was just her imagination playing tricks on her, but when the voice continued on about the positives of eating chocolate mousse as a meal, Cuddy knew it was not a figment of her imagination. The memories hit her like a tidal wave and she knows she is utterly powerless to stop them. Not when she's looking straight at _**him**_ – at the one man who has had the most impact on her life whether she's wanted him to or not. When she had left her home that morning the last thing she had thought of, let alone expected, was running into _**him…**_ She allows her gaze to roam over him, taking in everything about him; things that have changed and things that have not and then… then the anger rises. She has no idea where it comes from, but within the three long minutes she's allowed herself to look at him, she feels the rage bubbling up inside her, hot and intense and… then she feels the tears at the corners of her eyes and she knows she has to leave before it gets out of hand.

He was supposed to be dead – she had received the call from their mutual friend Wilson almost four years ago telling her that Gregory House had died in a building fire. At first she had thought it was a prank call, with House forcing Wilson to call her and give up her location, but there was nothing in the oncologist's voice indicating that House was indeed alive. Wilson had asked if she would be attending the funeral, and at first she had thought she should go, see him one last time, but then decided against it. She wanted to remember all the good times with him, all the times he aggravated her with his insane ideas of patient treatments, his lack of her privacy when it came to her personal life, and especially when there were other men involved – not that she had many of those. Mostly she wanted to remember him happy – and there were very few times he was genuinely happy.

Lisa Cuddy was pulled out of her thoughts when she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned around so abruptly she almost knocked over her friend in her haste to put distance between herself and House. Caught off guard by her behaviour, Emma asked if she was okay. Cuddy nodded a quick yes, grabbed her hand and was about to start leading her out of the isle so that she didn't have to walk past House. Fate however had different plans for her and she was forced to stop when she heard her daughter shout out his name.

"_House…" _Cuddy heard Rachel shriek with excitement, in the middle of the isle, and she was frozen with shock. She had no idea her daughter would even remember the man. Rachel had been just over two years old when Cuddy had uprooted and left Princeton and she had made sure she hid every reminder she had of House from her daughter, but more importantly, from herself. The fact that Rachel had, almost five years later, still recognised the misanthrope of a man was a definite shock to the older Cuddy woman.

She watched as his body stiffened slightly but he didn't turn around to face her daughter, giving off the impression that he had no idea who the little girl was or who she was yelling at. He did turn to face her however and sky blue locked onto slate grey and she gasped at the intensity of his gaze. Cuddy watched dumbfounded, as Rachel slowly walked up to where House was standing and talking to a woman she had seen somewhere before, but could not place. It was Emma who reacted before she could and Cuddy let out a sigh of relief when she saw that Emma had stopped Rachel from reaching out to touch House. It was only then that Cuddy noticed the woman and child standing next to him, looks of surprise on both their faces. Cuddy didn't bother waiting for Emma for pay or pack up their purchases; she grabbed a hold of Rachel and rushed out of the store to the safety of the outdoors, as quickly as she could.

They were almost three quarters of the way home when Cuddy heard Emma talking to her daughter. The doctor and Emma had become friends soon after Cuddy had moved to Michigan. She had first thought about moving to New York City but had decided against it thinking it would have not been the best thing for Rachel. She had finally settled on Michigan, knowing she would be able to find working hours she wanted leaving her with enough time to spend with her daughter.

Emma was Cuddy's neighbour's daughter, who had moved back home to look after her aging parents. Granted, Cuddy knew it could have been easier on the young woman if she had opted to place her parents in a home for old aged people, but Emma was having none of that. She had come over to meet Cuddy two weeks after Cuddy had moved in and after meeting Rachel, Emma had declared her friendship with Cuddy. Cuddy liked Emma for the simple reason that she didn't ask too many questions; she had asked once about the reason for Cuddy's move, but when the doctor had told her it was for personal reasons, the younger woman had taken the hint and never asked again. That had been over three years ago.

"So… Rachel… Who was that man you wanted to meet at the store?" Emma asked.

"That was House, he's my friend" the girl replied no sound of doubt in her voice.

"Rachel, honey," Cuddy interrupted before either Emma or Rachel could say anything else, "that was not House. That was just someone who looked like House."

"No mom," Rachel answered, "It was House. If anyone would remember their first friend – it would be me."

Cuddy let out a tired sigh, clearly not ready to deal with the events of the day. She was still taking in the fact that House was alive, let alone in the same state as she was.

Rachel bounded out of the vehicle before Emma had turned off the engine, clearly not believing anything her mother had told her.

"You want to talk about it?" Emma asked Cuddy after a long silence.

"There's nothing to talk about," Cuddy replied, her tone indicating there was not going to be any discussion about that afternoon's events – ever.

* * *

Let me know what you guys think  
Reviews are love.  
Working on the next chapter already – it should be up in a week's time.  
(Although if you're generous with reviews, I might be just as generous with chapters )


End file.
